And She Falls
by andshefalls
Summary: Set after Hogwarts, Hermione is living in the Californian Wizarding World, but she can't let go of something from her past. Ch9 - What you've been waiting for.
1. Rainfall

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Wishful thinking.  
  
Summary: Hermione's life after Hogwarts, she works as (surprise!) a book-keeper in a Flourish and Blotts. She still communicates with Harry and others, but has cut off communication with Ron. Wonder why? Will eventually be Hr/Draco, with many surprises along the way.  
  
  
  
'Curious,' Hermione Granger thought to herself, 'rain in August.' The window in California's Flourish and Blott's was fogged up, and she leaned her forehead on the glass. Children in robes ran between stores, rushing to buy their cauldrons, quills, and potion ingredients before they were carried away in the rain. Twenty-two year old Hermione imagined the ally ways suddenly filled ten feet high with water, the rainfall becoming a monsoon. She smiled grimly, thoughts of floating away filling her head.   
The daydream was interrupted by Rosa, her fellow book-shelver. "Mione, these books won't shelve themselves you know!" Rosa joked weakly. There was something unnerving about this Hermione girl, she thought to herself. So quiet, but so smart. All Rosa knew about her was that she had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, graduated at the top of her class, then dropped everything and moved out here to an unknown town in Northern California. Come to think of it, she thought, that was all anyone knew about Hermione. She had no family to speak of, no boyfriend, just a brilliant mind and love for children,  
As Rosa thought this, Hermione lit up at the sight of a young boy approaching the store. She sat up, straightened her black zip-up sweatshirt, and brushed a stray curl off her face. The Hermione Hogwarts knew had faded, and left a young woman in her place. Her once frizzy hair had softened into gentle, light brown waves. She chose her clothes carefully, wearing only what flattered her. Of average height and weight, what caught people was this girls eyes. Light brown, they immediately made you take a second look. They were familiar, like eyes you think you've seen in a dream. They comforted you, yet confused you at the same time. They were eyes that had seen the great and the terrible.  
Rosa faded into the book shelves, as Hermione approached the wet boy. "What can I do for you?" She asked kindly. He smiled at her tone, and held up an all too familiar piece of parchment. "Ah, starting at Phoenix, are we?" The boy nodded shyly. Phoenix was the American equal of Hogwarts, and Hermione had been helping kids get their textbooks all week. She helped him find all he needed, rang him up, and sent him on his way.  
"Rosa," she called out, "we're going to need more copies of 'Rare and Wonderful Fungi' by the end of the week!" Rosa peered out from behind a bookcase, and made a clicking sound with her tongue.   
"Mione, why don't you take Friday off? Go meet some people, get a hobby, get a haircut?" Hermione cringed at the nickname and stifled a groan. This was an all too familiar speech. Rosa was anywhere between thirty and fifty years old. Someone who always blended into a crowd. Everything was plain about her, she had a husband who worked late hours, went to church every Sunday, (probably just for the gossip, Hermione thought). She was the kind of lady who liked to know everyone's business, and just couldn't figure out why Hermione never went on dates.  
"Listen! There's this wonderful single man who just joined our church! Very cute, not much older than you. I could drop a few hints, give him your numb-"  
"Thanks, Rosa, really. But you know me. Books make better friends." Rosa thought she saw fear flitter across Hermione's face, but it was gone in an instant. "I'll be writing to Harry in the back room if you need me."  
  
  
Worth continuing?  
Not much of a start, but I wanted to introduce Hermione's life now. Next chapter: Hermione's home and an interesting visit to the store. 


	2. Black Balloon

Chapter Two: Black Balloon  
  
"Baby's black balloon makes her fly  
I almost fell into that hole in your life  
And you're not thinking about tomorrow  
Cuz you were the same as me  
But on your knees..."  
  
Hermione shifted her bag from one shoulder to the other. She was waiting in line at a local coffee house, her last stop before home. It was dark outside; she had closed up Flourish and Blotts minutes before. Hermione had a routine, one that she stuck to pretty strictly. Her cat, Crookshanks the Second, and her books were her main comforts in life. Children, too. Somedays she wanted kids of her own. But that meant finding the right guy.  
  
Hermione thought of her past relationships, not that there had been many, she snorted to herself. It wasn't until sixth year that boys started seeing Hermione as a girl. It took Ron all the way till seventh, when they had gone out. Stuffing that thought away, she remembered her first boyfriend, Dean. It had been an awkward relationship for them both, and she grinned at the memory. They were still friends, Dean and Hermione. He was married now, expected his first child. Her last boyfriend, Liam, she hadn't seen in a few years. As soon as the relationship became physical, she left it. But she preferred not to think of that. She'd spent years forgetting the memory of Ron, the smell of his sweater, his crooked smile, the way he had groaned whenever he saw her buried in another book. The way he had grown clinging, jealous. The way his hands had roamed her body, despite her protests...  
  
"M'am? M'am?" The boy behind the counter was trying to catch her attention.  
  
"Yes, sorry." The boy smiled, hearing her British accent, and took her order. 'Damnit,' Hermione thought, 'I'd been so good lately, forgetting that...' She shook the feeling and left, climbing back into her small, green car to go home.  
  
"Home" was an apartment, on a street crowded with apartment buildings and more tiny homes. Hermione had been lucky to find it, and she knew it. She rode the elevator up to the third floor, and didn't moan when she noticed the hall light-bulb was burnt out again. She didn't complain either when her key got suck in the sticky lock, or when she noticed the mail on her floor wasn't hers. 'Silly Mrs. Brown,' she thought, referring to her next-door neighbor. 'Poor lady is such a dear to bring me my mail, but with her failing eyesight, it's hardly ever the right mail!'  
  
Dinner consisted of a TV dinner in-front of the TV, Crookshanks purring next to her. She cleaned up, put in some microwave popcorn she knew she'd want later, and decided to organize her bills tonight. Radio came on, and she sat down. Rain began to beat against the windows again. With the hum of the microwave and the crummy music on the radio (some Lenny Kravitz crap), her mind began to wander again, back to a night some five years ago.  
  
It all had started with jealousy in her seventh year. Ron and Hermione were happily seeing each other, as everyone knew would happen at some point. Harry Potter was still Harry Potter, ultra-famous, star of the Quiddich field, brave warrior, Boy-Who-Lived, best friend to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Due to some home problems, Hermione and Harry had been growing closer and closer. It wasn't anything romantic, they had just found something special in their friendship. Hermione found it easier to relate and talk to Harry. After Ron had, a few times, come into the common room and found them talking quietly by the fire, he began to suspect foul-play. That was all it took. Before Hermione even knew Ron was growing resentful, he had her cornered in the library after-hours. He pushed her against a wall, put his hands and mouth al over her. To her pleas he only said, "If you loved me you'd do this with me." She begged him to think about what he was doing, but when she remained uncooperative, her hit her, knocked her to the ground. After a minute or two, Hermione became numb, lifeless. 'This isn't happening this is Ron this is us he's hurting me please make this stop he's hurting me Ron...' He left her there, tears streaming down her face, the shock of what he had done finally hitting him. It hit her, too, an hour later, shivering on the ground. Hermione wasn't sure what happened next; she wandered around, where she must've collapsed and was found the next morning. It was the day before Christmas Break. Ron had already gone. A few days later, she awoke in the hospital wing, Harry asleep in a chair beside her after days of Dreamless-Sleep Potion. She reached over and touched his hand, rousing him immediately. He jumped up and hugged her tightly, allowing a tear to escape. She held onto him for a mere moment, then gently pushed him away, rolled over. Hermione would eventually tell Dumbledore what had happened, and Ron, being eighteen, would be told not to bother returning to Hogwarts, ever. Hermione never found out what happened to him. Harry knew never to bring it up. As Dumbledore had once said, because it was a secret, "...naturally, the whole school knows." Hermione doesn't think his life was ever the same again, as very few people from Hogwarts would speak to him.  
  
Hermione snapped out of her daze, mentally scolding herself for thinking about that night. She reached over and felt comfort in the letter to Harry that was inside her bag. She took it out and gave it to Cytheria, her dove gray owl, to take to Harry. He was still a great comfort, but it Iwas/I easier to have long-distance friendships. As she crawled into bed that night, she asked herself the same question she did every night, "Am I lonely?" She thought about her conversation with Rosa, her non-existent night-life, or social life for that matter. Her life was going no-where, she had cut off communication with almost everyone from her past. Crookshanks leapt onto her bed, and curled at her feet. Finally, she told herself firmly, 'This is how I want my life to be. No obligation to anyone else.' One thing kept nagging at her mind...this was the longest it had taken her to answer that question. 'Maybe it wouldn't hurt to meet someone new tomorrow...'  
  
The next morning found Hermione in her usual place; she was behind the counter of Flourish and Blotts, having arrived right on time as always. The California rain had given her a break, at last, and today was sunny and bright. A day that held promise. She was fumbling with a roll of tape, that had somehow become entangled in a lock of her hair. The bell over the door jingled, and two unfamiliar faces came in.  
  
A man followed a young girl in. They both had blonde hair, so blonde it was almost white. By the way he watched her, it was clear he was her father, or guardian at least. He made a quick survey of the store, its over-crowded shelves, dusty smell, and the peculiar girl behind the counter. She was trying to remove something from her hair, and had only briefly glanced up when they entered. She was about his age, pretty but not what you would call stunning. Her hair was carelessly pulled up off her neck, and she wore a loose burgundy shirt that looked like it had been made in India. 'No-nonsense kind of girl,' he thought.  
  
Hermione only quickly looked up when the two figures entered. The man was tall, by Hermione's standards. He wore loose black robes over Muggle clothes, a white shirt and black jeans. 'Hmm, guess he wants to be able to blend into either world.' He carried himself gracefully, but not pompously. The little girl made a beeline for the collection of Wizard children books, and Hermione only got a small glance of her. Her hair, the same shade as her fathers, was pulled into two pigtails, and she wore dark purple robes over a purple jumpsuit. After freeing her hair ('Damned tape'), Hermione quietly made her way over to the girl. Hermione figured she was eight or nine. "Hello, is there something I can help you find?" The girl looked up to Hermione, and Hermione saw the blue eyes were absolutely vacant, empty. The girl looked towards the man, then back to the stack of books. The man with the blonde hair rushed over.  
  
"This is Aucella, Ella. She's mute, doesn't speak at all." The man explained quickly. He and Hermione's eyes did not meet.  
  
"Ah, I understand." Hermione replied, still looking at Ella. "Maybe I could still help you find something?"  
  
"Yes, we're looking for this series, about a Muggle detective, they're supposed to be very funny. Ella and I love to read together, don't we? Yes, Ella just..." The man's voice faded as he and Hermione's eyes met finally. As they recognized each other, the store became pin-drop quiet, and Hermione wondered to herself how the gods could play such jokes on her. "Granger?" the man asked, somewhat breathlessly.  
  
"Hello, Draco."  
  
  
Next Chapter: The story of Ella, and Draco and Hermione catch up. 


	3. Drawn Out

Disclaimer: See first chapter.  
  
Author's Notes: To my two reviewers -  
PhoenixRae: Thank you, your input helped me out a lot! And Da pesky kid: Thanks, your enthusiasm got this chapter written quicker.  
Quickly: Ella's age will have to be lowered to five or six, as she was too old to have born after Hogwarts.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"so the lines are lost  
on the smallest details  
of the life that we tossed  
pushed out over the rail  
and the wounds run deep  
through the one man so bad  
he's fallen beneath  
the touch of your hand"  
-"Drawn Out"  
Dishwalla  
  
Hermione Granger was sitting in a small sandwich shop, eating lunch with Draco and Ella Malfoy.   
Yes, you read that sentence correctly. After discovering who the other person was, Hermione and Draco had hurriedly forgotten that fact in the search for Ella's books. Much to both Draco's and Hermione's surprise, Ella had then walked over to Hermione and motioned for her to read Ella the book. Hermione looked to Draco, and seeing no objection, she sat on a pillow in the children's corner. Ella sat down next to her, waiting for Hermione to begin. By the look on Draco's face, she could tell Ella rarely did this.   
For close to half an hour, Hermione read to Ella, Draco listening near by. All during this, Draco and Hermione had avoided looking at each other. Rosa came to peer at the odd scene once and awhile, but no one noticed. Sneakily, she used her wand to flip the 'Open' sign over to read 'Closed'. She didn't want them disturbed. As Hermione rang them up (Ella and Draco were taking home three of the books in a series of five), Ella watched Hermione carefully. She seemed to be studying her. Draco thanked her, took Ella's hand, and turned to leave.   
Part of Hermione was pleased. This was just to awkward to bear. Another part was desperately curious. What was Draco doing in California? How did he have a daughter? Who was his daughter really? What was new with Draco? The last time she had seen him was seventh year. Gradually, he had grown tired of teasing the "Golden Gryffindor Trio", and while things were never friendly between he and the Gryffindors, they stopped trying to hex each other between every-other class. Hermione had noted Draco becoming more and more withdrawn, but that didn't stop him from becoming captain of the quiddich team, and a prefect. 'Draco wasn't just daddy's boy,' Hermione thought, 'There were brains in there.' Harry never mentioned him in his letters.  
Just as the enchanted bells hanging above the door jingled, Draco seemed to have a change of heart and turned back around. "Hermione, at the least I owe you a lunch." These simple words shocked Hermione, and would would imagine coming from someone who tortured you for four or five years of your life. "There's a lot to talk about." he continued. A war started within Hermione. Is he even worth listening to? Am I that desperate? What if this is a trick? What if he knows about Ron? What if-  
"I've got a lunch break in fifteen minutes." Hermione took the plunge, surprising even herself.  
Draco smiled. His smile disengaged Hermione, knocking down the shield she had built in the past years. Has she ever seen him smile, without smirking or at someone else's misfortune? Maybe when he was announced the captain of the quiddich team, that was one time she remembered. His smile now was warm, genuine. He truly was happy she had agreed to eat with them.  
So her they were, Hermione eating a vegetable sandwich, Draco a BLT, and Ella silently eating a grilled cheese sandwich. Hermione had taken note that Draco pointed at items on the children's menu, instead of just ordering for her. Ella tugged on Hermione sleeve, and when she looked over, Ella just stared. Hermione picked up a crayon, and drew a tick-tack-toe grid on her paper kid's menu. They played, Ella won. Ella put down her crayon angrily and looked away from Hermione. This startled Hermione; didn't children like to win? Draco smiled apologetically, then said quietly, "She knows you let her win." Hermione was delighted, but sorry she had offended Ella. This time she tugged on Ella's sleeve.   
"Play again?" she asked. Ella looked at Hermione, which again, unnerved her. She seemed to be measuring Hermione, looking deeply inside her. A shadow of a smile touched Ella's face, then left. She did pick up the crayon though; Hermione won the second round.   
Draco took all of this in with interest. This was the most emotion he had seen in Ella since she was an infant. Ella was an excellent judge in character; she was either her quiet, withdrawn self around you (a good sign), or she left the room whenever you entered (bad sign). Her mother had been killed when she was about one. But Draco did not think about that. At first he thought Ella had suffered some kind of brain damage, when she stopped responding to things. Doctors had assured him it was normal, she'd be back to normal within weeks. Weeks turned into months, months into years. Aucella - little bird in Latin. His little bird did not sing anymore.  
Hermione was good for Ella. He could see that immediately. Maybe he could bring her back to England, make her Ella's permanent nanny. Money was not an issue; his father had left him everything after he died in Azkaban. Draco was so amused that his father's actions as a Death Eater had never been found out; he went to Azkaban after using an Unforgivable Curse on his wife and the Muggle she was having an affair with. He had no family, no friends, but Ella. They were vacationing in California, a wish of Ella's. She wanted to see the beaches and palm trees she'd seen pictures of. He had no idea Hermione had relocated here.  
Hermione was standing to leave. The three walked outside, where it was bright with sunshine. Ella moved a few feet away, and bent to look at a worm on the grass. Draco and Hermione stood awkwardly, both watching Ella. They began to speak at the same moment. Draco motioned for Hermione to continue.  
"I've got to get back." This was not what Draco wanted to hear.  
"I'd like to see you again. We both do." He replied.  
Hermione was stunned, again. Draco, who's nickname for me was Mudblood. Draco who tormented me, hexed me. Draco whom I was never friends with. Draco who never smiled at me until today, years after graduation. Draco who is now a father.   
Hermione did not reply. Draco bent and scooped Ella up, who leaned against her father's chest. He pressed a slip of paper in Hermione's hand and said, "well, hope to see you again. It was nice to talk to you. Say goodbye, Ella." That shadow-smile appeared on Ella's face.  
"Goodbye, Hermione."  
It wasn't until they were out of eyesight that Hermione looked at the paper, it was a Muggle phone number, an extension at a wizard hotel, near the Flourish and Blott's that Hermione worked at.  
'I didn't know he could work a phone.'  
  
  
Author's Note: Next chapter coming soon, maybe tonight! 


	4. Hopeless

Disclaimer: See first Chapter  
  
Author's Note: Tara - Thanks, that's just what I was hoping to hear!  
  
  
"I'd tell it to your face  
But you lost or face along the way  
And I'd say it on the phone  
If I thought you were alone  
Why do things have to change?"  
-"Hopeless"  
Train  
  
  
As soon as Hermione stumbled through the door (the hall bulb was still broken), her owl Cytheria greeted her with a reply from Harry.  
  
Dear Hermione,  
Nice to hear from you again! All is well in England. I went to Dean's wedding last weekend. It was...nice. Strange to think it was just years ago he was blowing up goblets trying to make rum, eh? Say, anyone new in your life?  
The strangest thing happened to me a few days ago. You'll never guess who I received an owl from - Draco Malfoy. You remember him, right? Hard not to I suppose. Anyways, it was a pretty simple letter, mighta just been bullshit. Hard to tell with him. It was an apology letter, about the earlier years of our life. He said he wanted to make amends for the things he said. Didn't give an explanation, nor did he blame anyone or anything.  
Strange, huh? I'm off to Bulgaria for the next week or so - a tournament so I might be busy.  
When will I see you again?  
Yours,  
Harry  
  
Hermione allowed a small giggle. Harry always ended his letters that way - "When can I see you again?" Hermione knew very well he had gaggles of women swarming around him. He told her even Cho Chang had gone to see one of his games recently. Hermione supposed he missed her companionship, and hey, sometimes she missed it, too.  
  
Hermione placed the letter in a drawer with all the others, and made herself some dinner. With a flick of her wand, her salad was mixed and in a bowl, and her CD player turned on. It wasn't until later that Hermione remembered the slip of paper in her ourse. She was sitting on her bed, staring into the mirror above her bureau. Hermione was fantasizing about Draco's eyes, and the new smile she seen gracing his face for the first time. Not that she would admit it. She admitted she was curious. The new information about his letter to Harry only complicated matters. Hermione was both suspicious and intrigued. What would she loose by calling him?  
  
It was 10:37, according to her clock next to the bed. It's red numbers flashed annoyingly. 'Not too late to call,' she thought. 'What the hell?' She slowly dialed the seven numbers, as if expecting them to lead to a porno video shop.   
  
"Holiday Inn, who can I connect you to?"  
  
"Uh, room 108, please." Hermione stuttered. The phone clicked, paused, than began to ring again.  
  
"Hermione?" A masculine voice answered. Hermione decided she liked the voice. It was deep, but not too deep. It had the ability to be playful, and deathly serious.   
  
"How'd you know?" she asked curiously.  
  
You're the only one I gave the number to, of course."   
  
"What are you doing here anyway? And can you speak up? I can barely hear you."   
  
"Sorry, Ella's asleep next to me. Wait while I move her?" Hermione agreed, and she heard some shuffling until Draco's voice returned.  
  
"Thank's for calling me, by the way. There's a lot I'd like to talk about." Draco continued.  
  
"Me too."  
  
"What am I doing here? Ella wanted to come. She got tired of winter in England."   
  
"Are you staying?"   
  
"No...I've got appointments. Ella has school. We found a wonderful tutor for her so she doesn't have to deal with school."   
  
"She's learning magic?"   
  
"Yes, of course. Her mother was a fantastic witch. Went to Bauxbautons."   
  
"Is she back in England?"   
  
"She's dead." There was a long pause in conversation.   
  
"Hey, want me to call you back?" Draco asked. "I don't want to rack up your phone bill too much." Hermione agreed, and gave him her number without hesitating. When they were connected again, Hermione wasn't quite sure what to say.  
  
"Do you mind talking about her?"   
  
"Yes. Usually."   
  
"Okay. I heard you sent a letter to Harry not long ago."   
  
"Ah, so you're still in touch with him at least. I heard you severed ties with Weasley. What happened?" Hermione did not reply. "Okay, we won't go there. Yes, I wanted to at least try and make up for how I treated him. Come to think of it, all the Gryffindors."  
  
"Why, have a change of heart?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "I'm still having a hard time believing I'm here, talking civilly with Malfoy, the former Slytherin King."  
  
Hermione heard a chuckle on the other end. "Bastard I was. Do you have any interest in my side of the story? Truthfully?"  
  
"Of course, or else I wouldn't be here now."  
  
"Good point. It wasn't easy, growing up a Malfoy. That much is obvious. My farther hated me. I was just another recruit for Voldemort. My mother was like a glass figurine. So beautiful, so tragically fragile. She didn't really care much about what happened to me. As long as it didn't tarnish the Malfoy name and her reputation. It was always about the name. But 'What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet'". Draco surprised Hermione by quoting Shakespeare. "It was fun for awhile, being able to torture who I pleased, get away with murder for the most part. I fell into the roll of Mudblood Hater, Heir of Voldemort. It wasn't until I grew up a little that I started to have morals of my own. I looked at the world around me, and became bitter. The unfairness of it all hit me; how could I have been chosen to live the life of a Malfoy?"  
  
Hermione had been silent as a mouse. Draco was getting emotional, she could tell by the rise and fall of his voice. He stopped not to capture his breath.  
  
"It wasn't until I held Ella in my arms the first time that I began to feel repentant for my actions. I wanted to go back and apologize, try to take some of it back. Parenthood does amazing things to you. I hope you can experience that feeling someday, Hermione."  
  
Hermione found her voice. "So do I."  
  
Hermione and Draco called each other back many times that night. Discussing old memories from Hogwarts, talking about their lives now, and hopes they still held for the future. It was 3 AM when Hermione finally yawned, and they both agreed to call it a night.  
  
"Are you busy tomorrow?" Draco asked, almost hesitantly.  
  
"Tomorrow is my day off."  
  
"Can we see you?" Hermione liked how he said 'we', never forgetting small Ella.  
  
"I can pick you up at eight."  
  
  
  
Next Chapter: A long one coming soon. A day at the beach, time with the Malfoys. Plus what happened to Draco's wife. 


	5. Iris

Disclaimer: See first chapter.  
  
Author's Note: I'm doing my best to write the chapters as quickly as possible now. I hate it when things get going then people stop updating! Also - After this chapter it may seem like things are going to end happily-ever-after. I can assure you, its not going to be that easy.  
  
Pik - Wow! Thanks so much; your review meant a lot to me! If you really like it that much, please do tell others about it!  
  
  
"When everything feels like the movies  
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive."  
-"Iris"  
Goo Goo Dolls  
  
Hermione sat in her little green car outside the Holiday Inn, waiting for Draco and Ella to come out. Her hair was still wet from her morning shower, and was held up by a big black clip. She wore a heavy black sweater over a black tank-top, and khaki capri pants. The weather had become a little over-cast today, but no sign of rain. It was a good beach day in California.  
  
One minute Hermione was setting the radio, the next, a blonde man was peering in the window, a dark blue bundle in his arms. "Morning, Hermione." He said, smiling.  
  
"Good morning, Draco. Hello, Ella." The two climbed in, and Draco placed Ella in the back seat. She was wearing a big blue sweater that made her eyes seem huge.  
  
"We're off to the beach, hope you don't mind." Hermione said as she restarted the car. Ella's eyes darted from the window, to Hermione's head, then back to the window. Hermione saw this but said nothing.   
  
"We love the beach, don't we, Ella?" Draco said. Ella didn't reply, but Draco kept smiling anyway. "We haven't been in ages."  
  
On the way down, Hermione pointed out a little restaurant called Ranchito. They had been driving through mostly woods, but came to a tiny town that the restaurant was in. You could see there was a barn behind, and the whole place gave off a familiar, comfortable feeling. "We'll stop there for dinner," she said.  
  
Ella napped a little in the car, though it wasn't a very far drive. Hermione turned on the radio to keep it from being really quiet. She and Draco chatted a bit, but didn't have much to say yet. There were few cars at the beach that day, it was a little windy but not too cold. The beach would provide some shelter. Sure enough, the sand was warm on their feet, and the three strolled leisurely down the beach, looking for just the right spot to put their things.  
  
Hermione had brought some snacks, books, sand toys, and a few blankets. Draco and Hermione sat beneath a thick blanket not touching. Ella was a few feet in front of them, playing with some sand. Hermione got up and carried a child's bucket down to the water, bringing it back full. She sat down next to Ella, and the two of them made witch's castles. Soon Hermione's hands got cold, so she brushed them off and let Ella create her little world alone. She looked up to Draco; he was no longer watching them. His eyes were closed, and was he rubbing his wrist through his sleeve carelessly. His sweater was grey, and in the light, made him look very pale. Hermione got up and sat beside him. She took a silent, deep breath and reached out her hand. She placed it on top of Draco's, the one still rubbing his wrist. He didn't pull away, but his eyes opened. They were so full of sadness, Hermione worried she had something wrong. She pulled her hand away.   
  
Some time passed, Ella ate some crackers, Hermione read a chapter or two of her book. The waves kept crashing. Draco and Hermione made small talk, but soon she realized he was back to rubbing his wrist.  
  
'I do that sometimes,' she thought. 'Doubt we do it for the same reason, though.' Hermione thought of the little crisscrossing pink scars on her left arm. Some were on top her wrist, others underneath. There had been a time when she needed pain to bring her back. It was a terrible, lonely place, being in the state of absolute numbness.  
  
Hermione reached over and gently tugged up the sleeve of Draco's sweater. He let her, not looking at her but down at his wrist where he had been rubbing.  
  
The scars stood out more against his pale skin. None of them were new, they were fading and old, just like Hermione's.  
  
His voice startled her. "She was killed in front of us, you know."  
  
Hermione didn't say anything, but moved her hand up to her mouth.  
  
"They tried to kill her, too." His eyes flicked towards Ella. "I grabbed her and we dodged it. They didn't want me."   
  
Hermione knew what she had to do now, and she knew what the "joke" was the gods had played on her. Sometimes, you don't know why someone comes into your life. But you're there for them, and they're there for you. It just happens, no need to explain. When the gods send you a present, you don't ask why it was sent. Hermione lifted up her sleeve as well, revealing her scars. She said one word, "Ron."  
  
Draco didn't ask for an explanation. He took her hand and pulled it slowly towards his mouth. He kissed her scars softly, just brushing his warm lips to her skin. Hermione shivered. A minute later, she did the same to his wrist. They sat under the blanket for another hour, holding hands. It was hardly romantic. Not that either of them thought about what was going on exactly. Frankly, it was just good to know you really weren't alone in the universe. They knew someone else had known the same pain they had. There was no need for words or explanations. Ella walked over, and Draco motioned for her to sit on his lap. She did so, leaning her head on Hermione's shoulder. They sat and listened to the waves, almost like a family.   
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Planed on writing more, but I have caught a cold. Next chapter up tomorrow, hope you enjoy! 


	6. Barely Breathing

Disclaimer - See first chapter.  
  
To my reviewers - Please don't hate me for being a hypocrite! Chapter six is finally here, I'm very sorry for the delay. I'm not quite sure where to take this story now. I know where I wanted it to go originally, but you all had different ideas! I'd like to write what you want to read, but also stick to what I want. So do you want Ron to stir things up a bit? Come back? Would you hate it if things weren't happily ever after for a little bit? Please review and let me know so I can update quicker!  
  
Biohelixx - Ella will speak, of course. Wouldn't be a proper "drama" if she didn't! I always thought a Hermione/Draco relationship would be kind of dysfunctional if it ever happened, so that's what I'm aiming for. Bear with me, please! And you have a point, local phone calls don't cost much, do they? I guess I wanted to stress that Hermione wasn't making much money in her job!  
  
Anonymous - I want to keep it clean, too! There will be some romance, but nothing dirty. I promise!  
  
May Houston - Yes, that does seem like something Molly would do if he committed a crime like that, doesn't it?  
  
Thanks to PheonixRae, Amber, and Da pesky kid, too!  
  
On with the story!  
  
  
"Cuz I am barely breathing, and I can't find the air  
Don't know who I'm kidding, imagining you care  
And I could stand here waiting, a fool for another day  
But I don't suppose it worth the price  
Worth the price that I would pay..."  
-"Barely Breathing"  
Duncan Sheik  
  
It had been five days after Hermione, Draco, and Ella's day at the beach. Hermione was absently shelving more and more books onto already over-crowded shelves. School had begun, so the number of shoppers had dwindled. Hermione saw a handful of witches and wizards each day. Most frazzled mothers who needed to send forgotten things to their kids, and the elderly, who had nothing better to do than read.  
  
Hermione pulled at the hem of her grey sweater, and took out a tiny mirror to check on her make-up. So what if she was paying a little more attention to her appearance now-a-days? She hated the knowing looks Rosa kept giving her. So she'd finally met someone she liked being around. So what? Call the Daily Prophet why don't you?  
  
Her sour moods didn't last too long these days. Most of her breaks she spent with Draco and Ella. Lunches, dinner out, little excursions. Draco and Hermione still spoke each night on the phone, as they still hadn't run out of things to talk about. She'd ask her opinion on this, he'd tell her about that, they'd argue, make amends, always ended on a good note. Hermione respected that about him. He wasn't afraid to argue with her. They'd fight over who the next Minister of Magic should've been, what movie they should see this coming weekend, where Ella was better off growing up. Draco hadn't mentioned going back yet. Ella was doing fine in California, why rush off?  
  
Nothing serious had happened between Draco and Hermione, not even a kiss. They'd both be lying if they said it hadn't even crossed their minds, but still the most affection they showed was holding hands. Draco told himself it was because he didnlt want to startle Ella, even though she had grown very comfortable and close to Hermione. Hermione told herself it was because she just wasn't ready for that. However, it was safe to assume the only good reason was because neither knew how the other felt about it.  
  
They were going out tonight for dinner, in fact, a new restaurant in the city of San Francisco. Ella had pointed to a picture of the city's lights in a magazine Hermione was looking through, so it was decided. Hermione would drive them down, after closing the shop and getting dressed.  
  
Hermione wore a beautiful black dress, simple but elegant. She didn't want to look too dressed up. She was bringing a little gift to Ella, a silver necklace with a dove on it. Hermione stared at the person looking back at her in the mirror in her room, then smiled a small smile. Yeah, she was looking forward to this evening. She really enjoyed being in Draco's company, and he wasn't hard to look at either.  
  
Just as she was walking out the door, an owl tapped on the bedroom window. Hermione hurried to let it in out of the wind, which was picking up. 'From Harry,' she thought. 'Might as well read it quickly, see if he won the tournament.'  
  
Dear Hermione,  
We won! We won! I wish you could've been there to see it! It was magnificent, the team played brilliantly! I caught the snitch inches from the ground! Oh Hermione, it was my finest hour! I feel like we just won the House Cup or something!  
Enough with the modesty, eh? I'm sure that's what you're thinking. Hope everyone is well there, and I'm sorry I've been out of touch. Meet anyone new? Hey, I happened to have heard from Molly Weasly the other day. She sent me a good luck card and some fudge. Good thing some people never change, eh? Ron's dead. He committed suicide a while ago, apparently. She wanted to tell you herself, but I said I'd give you the news. Thought it might give you some closure. His family has come to terms with both his actions at Hogwarts and his death, I hope now you can, too.  
When can I see you again?  
With best wishes,  
Harry  
  
'Way to be subtle, Harry,' Hermione thought even as she began to hyperventilate. 'Dead?' She hated Ron for what he did to her, but she never wished him dead. Not even close to it. Had his isolation from everyone done this? This was her fault! If she had just let it go, not told anyone, he'd be alive. Either way, it was her fault he was dead. Ron was just a kid. How could he be dead?  
  
The room began to spin around Hermione. She took quick, deep breaths, but she didn't feel like she getting any oxygen. She dropped the letter and stumbled to her bathroom's medicine cabinet. 'There were pills, those damned pills the doctor gave me,' she was thinking. Someone had given her pills for panic attacks like this one, something to relax her and calm her down. After just finding the little blue pills in their orange prescription bottle, her breathing slowed a little. She was supposed to take two with water. She took three, gulped some water, and threw another one back for good measure. She sat curled on the cool tiles of her dark bathroom for a few minutes. She checked her pulse a few times, and when she could stand, she washed her face quickly. She was paler than paper, but she reapplied her make-up with a shaking hand.  
  
She drove to Draco's hotel on autopilot. He commented on her paleness, but she told him she was just tired.  
  
"Are you sure? We could just stay here you know, order room-service."  
  
"N-no, no. Ella's been looking forward to this."  
  
"Okay, if you're sure. You look lovely, by the way." Draco commented with a smile.  
  
"You don't look so bad yourself, sir." Draco was wearing black pants and a high-necked black sweater. No, he did not look like a vicar in it, he looked beautifully pale and graceful.  
  
Ella was quiet, as always, in the back seat, but wore a deep red dress under a coat. When Hermione asked her if she was excited, Ella looked over and their met. Hermione knew that was a yes.  
  
A few minutes into the drive, Hermione's shaking hands got the better of her and she almost missed a stop sign. When she started swerving into another lane, Draco ordered her to pull over.  
  
She leaned her head onto her hands still on the steering wheel. Draco put his hands on the top of her head, and when she jumped, he told her to get out and let him drive. She didn't argue, but got out and they switched sides. When they were back on the road, it didn't even occur to Hermione to ask where he learned to drive.  
  
"Hermione, what's the matter? Did you sleep at all last night? You're as pale as death." Hermione flinched when he said 'death' and she reached into her bag where she had stashed her pills. She swallowed another, and said,  
  
"This will calm me down. Thanks, Draco." The rest of the ride was quiet, and the reached their restaurant right on time for their reservation. When Hermione stepped out of the car, she stumbled a bit.  
  
"Whoops, stumbled on my own feet!" Draco gave her a worried look. He held Ella with one arm, and put his other arm around Hermione's waist. They were seated, and Hermione was paler than ever. They placed their orders with the waiter. They had been lucky enough to get a table with a view of the city, and Ella was watching it with the air of someone who suddenly expects it to all go away. You could see the lights of the city and the blackness that was the ocean. Hermione gulped her water, and answered every question quickly and bluntly. Draco knew something was wrong, but couldn't place his finger on it. Just as their appetizer was served, Hermione stood up and excused herself. Draco called after her, but she rushed away to the rest room. Draco got up and followed her. He called into the bathroom, but didn't get an answer. He motioned Ella over, and asked her to go check on Hermione. Minutes ticked by, and Ella finally came back out.  
  
"Daddy, Hermione's sick." Ella quietly said.  
  
  
  
  
Hours later, Hermione and Draco could be found exiting a city hospital. Draco had gaped at his daughter for an instant, then rushed into the rest room to find Hermione hunched over on the ground, paler than ever, and barely breathing. He had picked her up, grabbed Ella's hand, and driven to the hospital like a madman. Luckily, he hadn't been stopped by anyone. He found out Hermione had over-dosed on her panic medicine, and it had almost caused her heart to stop beating. She didn't have to stay the night, but her had been told she needed to be watched for the next few days. It wasn't a suicide attempt, they assured him. Just an accident.  
  
'Just an accident.' He said over and over in his head. He was cradling Hermione in his arms as he walked back to the car. She was barely conscious, so she lay in the back while Ella sat uo front with him.  
  
"Ella?" Draco tried to talk to his daughter. "Ella, I'm glad you spoke to me. You saved Hermione."   
  
He got no reaction.  
  
They drove back to Hermione's apartment; Draco had never been up there. He carried her up, Ella opening doors for them and pushing buttons for the elevator.   
  
It was hours after she had passed out, and Hermione lay breathing quietly on her bed, the drugs she had been given were still wearing off. Ella was asleep in the living room, on the couch under many blankets. Draco was pacing around Hermione's bedroom, watching her, and looking at her things. He picked up photo frames, looked at the CDs in her player. Her was studying a moving photo of Hermione and Harry when he felt a hand on his arm. Hermione was standing behind him, holding his arm for support. She was regaining some color, and smiled peacefully.   
  
"What are you doing in my room?" she asked playfully.  
  
Draco smiled.  
  
  
  
Next chapter soooon, but I wanted to post this now. Hope you liked, next chapter will be interesting!  
  
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! 


	7. Love and Conscience

Disclaimer: See first chapter.  
  
Author's Note: Remember - just 'cause they say Ronnie's dead doesn't mean he can't come back... This is the ending I wanted to post on the last chapter, but didn't. It might seem unreal, but I'll try to back it up next chapter.  
  
  
  
"Love is too young to have conscience." -C.S. Lewis  
  
"What are you doing in my room?" Hermione asked playfully.  
  
Draco smiled. Then Hermione got serious.  
  
"Thank you, Draco. I'm not sure what happened exactly, but I know I probably owe you my life." Draco smiled again at this.  
  
"Ella spoke, you know. She came right outside, after going in to look for you. She called me Daddy." Hermione was shocked.  
  
"And of course I had to miss that!" She chuckled a little. "You know, Draco, I didn't mean for that to happen. I wasn't trying to hurt myself."  
  
"I know. I just don't understand what could've pushed you that far." He got no reply. Draco moved around Hermione so she was in front of him. They both looked into the mirror above Hermione's bureau. They stared for a moment at their reflections. Hermione's eyes were alert, and deep brown. She was a little pale, but she just seemed worn out. Draco's hair had become disheveled, but he seemed to be very awake still. Hermione closed her eyes and leaned slightly into Draco. He responded by putting his hands at the top oh her arms, supporting her. She listened to his heartbeat, and his breathing. It had become very quiet in Hermione's room. A minute later, Hermione realized Draco had lowered his head to her neck. It was pale and warm, and she could feel his breath against it. She opened her eyes, and by the reflection, she could see his eyes were closed. Not hurrying, he kissed her neck very, very softly. She held her breath for a moment, then closed her eyes again.  
  
Both Draco and Hermione lost track of how long they'd been standing there. He continued to kiss her neck gently, and she began to fade underneath his touch.  
  
  
  
  
It had begun to rain again. They could hear it on the roof and on the windows. Ella was still asleep on the couch. Draco and Hermione were lying in her bed, talking softly to each other. Sometimes they'd pause to listen for Ella or to the rain. He held one arm around her, his face half buried in her hair.  
  
"After he raped me, he never came back to school. No charges were really pressed. I just found out today he killed himself a while ago. I keep thinking to myself, if I hadn't told anyone, if things were different, he could still be alive. I never wanted him dead, Draco. I wished a lot of things on him, but never death."  
  
"I know, I know. Hermione, you couldn't stop him from killing himself anymore than you can change the tides. It was his choice, and it wasn't your responsibility to change him."  
  
"Thank you, Draco." Awhile later, they spoke about Draco's wife.  
  
"Her name was Lupa. She was beautiful. She had these brilliant green eyes, and blonde hair, like mine. I met her through father, and while she wasn't my choice of wife, we were good to each other." Draco took a breath before continuing. "We had a child, which was expected. Father wanted a boy, but was just as pleased when he saw Aucella. She's beautiful, isn't she?" Hermione nodded. "Things were fine, until that day. I suspect someone was after me. Wanted revenge on me, and decided to take my loved ones instead of me. I loved Lupa, but I wasn't in love with her. Does that make sense? I can't tell you the feeling, of seeing her die in front of me." Draco's voice broke, and he stopped his story for a moment.  
  
"Ella screamed for an hour, it seemed like. She saw everything, too. Then she just stopped talking, making any noise. We moved, broke off contact with all our friends. It's just Ella and I."  
  
They lay there for a while longer. Hermione was about to get up to check on Ella when Draco's grip tightened around her, and he whispered, "Please, please don't leave me right now." His voice broke every other syllable, and Hermione quickly lay back down, kissed his face, and comforted him as best she could. She ran her fingers through his hair, until the rain's steady rhythm lulled them both into sleep. 


	8. Downfall

Disclaimer: Same as always.  
  
Author's Note: I'm going on vacation tomorrow so I won't be able to post until 12/30 at the earliest. Just wanted to let you know! Thanks to Jacque, PheonixRae, mj_skywalker, Erica G., Panda, and Adri (I love your name). Now, the next part was my orignal plan for how things would go. No happy ending immediately, remember? If it really drives everyone nuts, I'll change it. Hope you like it anyways. Sorry for the length!  
  
"Downfall"  
Wonder how you sleep  
I wonder what you think of me  
If I could go back  
Would you have ever been with me  
I want you to be unused  
I want you to remember  
I want you to believe in me  
I want you on my side  
  
[Chorus]  
  
Come on and lay it down  
I've always been with you  
Here and now  
Give all that's within you  
Be my savior  
And I'll be your downfall  
mmm, mmm, mmm  
  
-Matchbox Twenty  
  
  
Hermione woke up when it was still dark out. Carefully, she lifted Draco's arm off her, and got up. Her feet were cold on the hardwood floor. Grabbing her robe off a chair, she slipped it on and walked into her bathroom. She flipped on the lights and drew a bath for herself, pouring in some bubbles that smelled of jasmine.  
  
'After a night like last night, I need some quiet time.'  
  
She had been sitting in the time for some time, but the bubbles remained thick. There was a window by the tub, frosted glass so no one could see in. Hermione could look out it while sitting in the tub. Just as she was watching it get lighter and lighter, the lights turned off. Luckily, by then there was just enough light in the room to see Draco standing in the door dressed. He came in and sat at the edge of the tub.  
  
"Lucky I put in bubbles," Hermione said, trying to make it sound light. Something was wrong. Draco looked sullen and serious, but smiled slightly when she said this. His eyes were dark.  
  
Draco reached over and ran his fingers through her hair. The bottom of her hair was wet, and his hand stopped at the back of his neck.  
  
"Morning," he said, "Ella's still asleep on the couch."  
  
There was a large pause in conversation. Al that could be heard was Hermione moving around in the water, and muffled bird cries outside.   
  
"You're leaving, aren't you." Hermione said lowly, accusingly.  
  
"I told you we'd have to leave." Draco was annoyed Hermione sounded so...accusing.  
  
"So that's it then? A shag and you're off?" Hermione said after a pause.  
  
"There's things that need to be taken care of, Hermione." Draco enunciated each word carefully, slowly. Hermione turned her out to look out the window so he wouldn't see her face.  
  
"Look at me, Hermione." Draco tried to get her to listen so he could explain. Thoughts were racing through his mind. He could sell his house. Ella never liked her tutor anyway. This apartment was big enough for three. He could get a job, anywhere with his credentials. He could leave Lupa's grave for good. And all the people that wouldn't look him in the eye. Hell, he was willing to leave everything for Hermione, couldn't she see that?  
  
She didn't turn to him. Draco lost control of his tongue.  
  
"Well look, you're not really giving me a reason to stay, are you?" He almost spat the words out.  
  
"You're right, Draco. Maybe I just need some time." Draco completely missed the sarcasm in her voice.  
  
"Time?"  
  
"Hmm...yes, time. In...let's say six months...If we're really meant to be together we'll still be single and going no where with our lives, right?"  
  
"Sixth months?"  
  
"In six months, you'll come back here, to San Francisco. We'll meet on the Golden Gate Bridge. Six months from now? Yes, that's February. Valentine's Day, then? Good for you? If one of us isn't interested anymore, we won't go. Simple as that."  
  
Draco was silent.  
  
Ella walked through the door a while later. Draco was still on the edge of the tub, his face emotionless, his lips set in a straight line. Hermione was looking out the window, but when Ella came in, she looked over quickly. Ella smiled at her. Draco went and picked her up, and without looking back, walked out the bathroom.  
  
"'Bye" Hermione heard in a whisper.  
  
She heard the door shut a few minutes later.  
  
Hermione sat in the tub until the water was icy cold, and the window above it was dark once more. 


	9. Leave

Disclaimer: Same as always.  
  
Author's Notes: Huge delay, yes I know. Hopefully you have not forgotten about me. This will most likely be the last chapter, as there is little to say. Yes, "An Affair to Remember" and well as "Sleepless in Seattle" have similar endings. Mine will have more of an "Affair" twist. Thanks to Avri, Panda, PheonixRae, Serenity, May Houston, Erin, as well as everyone else who reviewed my story. You made this beginning author's first experience great. I'm starting a new story immediately, probably going to be titled "This Is How I Say I Love You". Yes, Draco/Hermione, what else? Much love - AndSheFalls  
  
  
"I'm not saying there wasn't nothing wrong  
I just didn't think you'd ever get tired of me  
I'm now saying we ever had the right to hold on  
I just didn't wanna let it get away from me  
  
But if that's how it's gonna leave  
Straight out from underneath  
Then we'll see who's sorry now"  
  
-Matchbox Twenty, "Leave"  
  
  
  
The nest six months were the most interesting of Hermione's life, she would say later. They passed both slowly and quickly, some days were painful, others numb in their dullness. One thing's for sure - the days did pass. The New Years came and went, Hermione celebrated alone in her apartment. Then came February, a cold, dreary month that had always seemed unimportant to Hermione.  
  
Draco's world, however, had changed dramatically. In December he moved to California, as Ella really had liked the warm weather better compared to England. He never tried to see Hermione, and was renting a place farther down the coast from where Hermione lived in a place called Carmel. It was a quiet, seaside town. Ella was adjusting well.  
  
Neither had heard a word about the other since Draco left Hermione in the bathtub that August morning.  
  
Finally, February the 13th rolled around, just like every other day had. Ella was being schooled by Draco for the time being, so she'd be coming with him to the bridge tomorrow. Was he nervous? Deep down, Draco was shaking. It was an anxious feeling...like there was a kangaroo on steroids inside him doing tap dance. So yeah, he was nervous!  
  
Hermione, on the other hand, decided to take today off work, as there was little business anyway. She planned on relaxing, not thinking too hard about what tomorrow might bring. Hermione was fairly confident Draco would come. What had happened that August morning was a misunderstanding. Surely nothing could end what Hermione and Draco had found in each other when the odds were against them?  
  
Six months had not changed Hermione. She still took great pride in her job, and still had a pretty much nonexistent social life. After Draco, she realized it really didn't matter if she had a ton of friends she could call whenever. She found what she wanted, a family. Draco had kept himself busy with Ella, and he got to know her a little better each passing day. She was no chatter-box, and still preferred to speak only when absolutely necessary. She and her dad were taking little steps, and neither had a problem with that.  
  
February 14. Valentine's Day. A day that traditionally celebrated the keeping apart of lovers. Sam Blaskower was rushing to the SF Airport to meet his wife. He promised he'd be there right on time, and just now, he was anything but on time. He shoved more money through the space in the glass at the taxi driver, begging him to step on it.  
  
Hermione planned on being there early. She wore a long black skirt, and a dark grey jacket against the cold. He hair, a little longer than before, was pulled into a low ponytail, but pieces had escaped in her anxiousness to arrive early. Even she was surprised how restless she was.  
  
Draco bundled Ella up, knowing the wind could be cold.  
  
"Would you like to see Hermione again, Ella?" Draco asked, kneeling in front of her. Ella nodded with wide eyes.  
  
Draco tried not to act nervous, but he had trouble getting his arm through the hole of his black jacket. He had to stop, take a breath, then try again. Ella didn't know whther to giggle or try and comfort her dad. Why was he being so silly?  
  
Sam Blaskower remembered the last time he had broken a promise to his wife. She'd threatened to leave, saying he was untrustworthy and probably having an affair.  
  
The taxi driver glanced awkwardly in the rearview mirror at the restless passenger. He was making him nervous.  
  
Hermione parked at one side of the bridge, and jumped out of her car, already looking around for a blonde haired man.  
  
Draco paid his taxi driver, and took Ella's hand as they walked onto the bridge side-walk at the opposite end of the bridge from Hermione.  
  
Sam Blaskower started tapping impatiently on the glass dividing himself from the driver. The driver looked up and tried to signal to Sam he couldn't hear him.  
  
Hermione broke into a jog as she rushed to get onto the bridge's pathway. She leapt up onto the foot-high cement barrier dividing bystanders and traffic, and began to loose her balance.  
  
Maybe it was Sam's fault. Maybe it was the wind. Maybe it was something out of either Draco or Hermione's power that stopped them from meeting this Valentine's Day.  
  
Hermione started to regain her balance, barely. The driver of Sam's taxi began to swerve into on-coming traffic, utterly distracted by Sam, and quickly jerked the steering wheel in the opposite direction. Right into the space Hermione began to fall into.  
  
The accident was over in a split second. Traffic was blocked, and someone with a cell phone jumped out and dialed for an ambulance quickly. Sam and the driver suffered minor injuries. Hermione was unconscious and clinging to life.  
  
Draco would hear the sirens of the ambulance, but wouldn't think twice about them. He was too busy watching and waiting for a familiar lady to come rushing his way. It would be eleven at night before Draco would pick up Ella, and say, "Common kiddo, time to go home."  
  
  
  
Hermione woke up a day later. Her injuries were not as bad as they could've been. A man with black hair was leaning over her, and as her eyes adjusted and came into focus, she notices a familiar scar on his forehead.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione's mouth was dry and she felt like she'd been running for days on end. But she couldn't feel her feet.  
  
The man smiled, and quieted her when she began to ask another question. "Rosa sent for me," he said quietly.  
  
"How bad is it?" Hermione asked. She had a vague memory of the accident.  
  
"'Mione...Hermione, your back is broken, love." Hermione didn't mention Draco. She knew it was a lost cause now.  
  
  
  
A week passed. Draco was considering going back to England. Harry had moved in with Hermione until she found a room-mate and got used to moving around in her wheelchair. It took a day or two, but she eventually told Harry what she had been doing on the bridge that day. Harry said he'd keep his eyes open for Draco around town, but Hermione knew better than to think he'd stuck around, if he'd even shown. Hermione was starting to hope he hadn't even been there.  
  
One somewhat dreary night, Harry had left the apartment to go get a drink at a little restaurant on the same block as Flourish and Blotts. Hermione was asleep, wiped out. It hadn't taken her long to accept the fact she might never walk again. It was mind-boggling to Harry though. As he sipped his drink, he made the decision to propose to his girlfriend of eight months when he got back to England. Life could change to quickly to hesitate on those kind of things. He placed some bills on the counter, and was getting up to leave when someone came inside. It was a tall blonde man carrying a child. They sat in a booth, and Harry could see this was unmistakably Draco Malfoy, even though they hadn't seen each other since seventh year. Draco caught Harry staring, and met his gaze for an instant before looking away. Harry walked over.  
  
Draco had decided to find Hermione, he needed closure as to why she hadn't been there. Flourish and Blotts was already closed. No one answered at her apartment. He didn't know of any friends to call.  
  
"Hello, Malfoy." Draco looked like he really wasn't interested in chatting, but motioned for Harry to sit down.  
  
"Can I buy you a drink?" Drack asked Harry. Harry declined, but got straight to the point.  
  
"Been in town long?" Draco shook his head, no.  
  
"Thinking of going back." Draco replied.  
  
After a beat, Harry said, "You need to see her before you leave."  
  
Draco didn't bother to ask how Harry knew, as thousands of thoughts raced through his mind.  
  
"Are you seeing her, Harry?" Harry considered why Draco would even ask this, then answered.  
  
"No."  
  
Harry took Draco and Ella back to Hermione's apartment. She was up and moving around in her chair. When she heard the door open, she said loudly, "Back so soon, Harry? 'Spected you'd gone to call that girlfriend of yours. You really can use my pho...-" Her voice faded as she saw who walked through the door.  
  
As it had always been with Draco, no words were needed. With one look he took in the wheelchair and the mixed expression on her face. Anger wasn't there.  
  
Ella rushed over and jumped onto Hermione's lap. Draco grinned.  
  
  
  
The End. 


End file.
